


If We're Gonna Do Anything, We Might As Well Just...

by sclara



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Angst, Drunk Sex, M/M, Michael being a little bit of an ass, OOCness, language warning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-08
Updated: 2014-07-14
Packaged: 2018-02-03 21:21:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1757345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sclara/pseuds/sclara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It always ended this way: panting into sweat-drenched sheets, disgust and pleasure and confusion and this relentless tinge of love thrumming through him, while next to him an equally sweaty body had fallen into unconsciousness the second he found completion."</p><p>Luke is a little bit in love with Michael, but Michael only wants him when he's drunk out of his skull.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Helloo, this is my first 5SOS fanfic! I was going back and forth on whether or not I should post it yet seeing as it's unfinished, and whether I should post it a little longer in chapter form or just keep it shorter and repost it as a one-shot... So I don't know, consider this a trial run? It's really short right now, but I'm still working on it!  
> If you like it, please tell me if you want more or whatever. If you don't like it, uhh... I'm sorry? :p
> 
> By the way, lads, on the off chance you're reading this, please go no further! :p  
> 

It always ended this way: panting into sweat-drenched sheets, disgust and pleasure and confusion and this relentless tinge of _love_ thrumming through him, while next to him an equally sweaty body had fallen into unconsciousness the second he found completion.

 _Lucky him_ , Luke thought, turning onto his back to stare up at the dark ceiling-- at anything but him, really. _Anything_ but Michael, out cold like he hadn’t been rutting on top of him like an animal barely a minute before. He wasn’t even sure why he was disappointed over it anymore. Michael hadn’t said it in words, but it was obvious that Luke was just a body to him in the way that he stumbled into their room smelling like he had bathed himself in alcohol only to grab Luke’s hips and silence his protests before they even managed to form. And Luke was so easy, just let him have it without a second thought and Michael knew it, counted on it.

Then morning would inevitably come with Luke waking up alone and Michael acting like Luke hadn’t been screaming his name into the pillow just a few hours ago. And then the cycle would continue, an endless loop of exquisite torment and Luke wasn’t sure he could handle it anymore. He sighed, turning his body to face away from the older boy, scooting as close to the edge of the bed so that he wouldn’t feel the overwhelming heat of Michael’s body seeping into his skin.

 _Tomorrow I’ll tell him,_ Luke told himself every time. Whether it was that he was a little in love with Michael or that their late night trysts made him feel cheaper than a two-dollar hooker because _at least they got paid_ , he wasn’t sure.

He never said a word, though, kept smiling, laughing, goofing off like they were just best friends and their secret wasn’t eating at his soul like drops of acid. And Michael never acted any differently around him, which he should have been grateful for but really it just made him feel as if he was going mad, as if it was all a dream his pathetic subconscious had tricked him with.

But no, Michael was really next to him and Luke was really lying there with too many emotions balling up inside him and an uncomfortable wetness between his legs.

He should have known better.

Michael was always pissed beyond reason, but Luke was achingly sober every time. He wished he could map out Michael’s intentions so that at least he could drown himself in alcohol and forget it ever happened, too, but Michael was nothing if not unpredictable in everything he did. It was just who he was and Luke couldn’t hope for him to change just because he was incapable of saying no to those wide green eyes and softly smirking lips.

And so he would inevitably say yes again and again until he physically couldn’t take it anymore or—worse—Michael grew tired and tossed him aside for the next convenient body. Maybe even Ashton or Calum… except—No, he couldn’t even process the thought without it churning his stomach with rage or disgust or jealousy, probably a mixture of all three. Even if they were bicurious or whatever, they’d never—

Luke shook his head, jostling the bed a little which made Michael snort quietly in his sleep. Luke fixed his gaze to the sliver of moonlight filtering in through the hole in the curtains, ignoring Michael’s existence as much as he could muster.

As much as he hated the thought of Michael being with someone else, he couldn’t do _this_ anymore. It would kill him in the end, spiritually and maybe even physically. He couldn’t handle being someone else’s fuck toy, cold and used up until it’s discarded for a better model.

Not even Michael’s.

No, especially not Michael’s.

_Tomorrow I’ll tell him._


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry these have been so short. I did write a chapter that was literally like 5,000 words long (and I don't know if anyone wants to read that much tbh!) but it comes in later... Anyway, I hope this isn't too pointless a chapter, but I'm still writing the next part and I'm impatient and too lazy to edit stuff so HERE YOU GO! :D

Luke woke up alone, no trace of Michael’s presence in the cold sheets next to him, and sighed. He could hear Ashton’s giggles float up from the kitchen, yelling something about _too many empty Vegemite jars,_ and Calum’s responding voice _._ The lads were all awake, then, unless Michael had snuck back into his own room sometime during the night. It wouldn’t have been the first time, though it was probably less due to the shame of waking up naked next to Luke ( _of all people)_ and more for the sake of nursing his no-doubt massive hangover.

Luke rose up, stretching his arms over his head with a loud groan. His entire body ached keenly, either from sleeping in a weird position or—well, _otherwise_. He could feel the blush rising in his cheeks and he shook his head. This was at least the fifth time Michael had drunk-slept with him and he still acted like an awkward virgin. Although, it wasn’t as if he participated much beyond keeping himself on his knees and maybe _helping himself out_ if he wasn’t too far gone. Otherwise, Michael held all the power in their little dalliance—

**_Sex_ ** _, Luke. Just say sex._

He grumbled to himself as he fetched his boxers from where Michael had flung them. He glanced over at Calum’s bed, relieved to see it was untouched—Calum had taken to sleeping on the lounge after a night of partying—and began dressing in the loosest clothing he could find, if only to make it less obvious that he was trying not to limp a little.

He dragged himself down the stairs, one agonizing step at a time, trying to keep from wincing too obviously. Calum and Ashton were sitting by the kitchen island, laughing over something on Ashton’s laptop. They both looked up when Luke stumbled in.

“Damn, Lukey, did you wake up in an alley this morning?” Calum said with a grin. The guy was way too chipper for someone who had probably consumed his body weight in alcohol the night before.

“Are you coming down with something?” Ashton asked, switching into Concerned Dad mode.

“I don’t know,” Luke mumbled. “Maybe.” He shuffled over to the cupboards, hoping to find something to satisfy his empty stomach. Ashton had been right, the Vegemite jars were all empty. He and Michael were in the habit of putting empty cartons and jars back into their spot instead of throwing them out, something Ashton was constantly on their case about. _Well,_ his brain said. _At least you have something in common other than--._

“Shut up,” Luke muttered.

“I didn’t even say anything,” Michael’s voice grumbled behind him. Luke froze, his hand halfway through shutting the cabinet door. He turned slowly, trying to decide whether he had the courage to look at Michael or not, but the older boy was barely awake and clearly hung-over. His hair was even messier than usual and he had dark circles under his eyes, but the look on his face said _if you do anything at all, I will claw your eyes out._

Luke decided not to mess with the beast and hurried over to Ashton and Calum, pretending to be very invested in their Facebook stalking of some apparently _seriously bangin’ babe_ Ashton used to go to school with.

Michael made some tea and then slowly shuffled over to the lounge, where he made a nest of blankets and pillows and stuffed animals that effectively sent the message _I will not be going anywhere today._

“I’m never drinking again,” Michael moaned and rubbed his head against Luke’s penguin. Luke was of half a mind to go rescue it from Michael’s clutches, but a bigger part of him really wanted to be as far away from him as he could.

“Yes, you are. We’re going out again tonight, remember?” Calum piped up with a far-too-bright smile.

“Oh, god,” Michael groaned louder, his face turning a little green. “You’re trying to kill me.”

Calum sat down next to Michael and rubbed his head, cooing softly at him, “Poor baby.”

“Cuddle,” Michael whined and plopped his head down on Calum’s lap, arching into the head massage like a kitten. Luke watched with a strange sense of detachment. He couldn’t take Michael acting so _normal_ , so much like the old Michael, when he knew what was hiding behind it. He wasn’t sure which one was the real Michael anymore, and he—he just couldn’t.

Luke stood up, preparing to leave, when Calum reached a hand out to him, grabbing at the air like a child, “Come cuddle with us, Lukey.”

Luke shook his head vehemently, “I-I have to go take a shower.”

“It’s okay, we won’t tell you that you smell bad,” Calum replied, still grasping air. “C’monnn…”

“Luke’s too manly to cuddle with us,” Michael said, fiddling with a hole in Calum’s shirt. “He’s a macho man now.”

Ashton started singing _Macho Man_ in a high tone, but Luke ignored it. How dare Michael try to talk to him like—like they could go back to normal just like that? It had been going on too long now, they’d been in a weird place for too long, and Luke wouldn’t—couldn’t—go on pretending that they were fine.

“ _Fuck_ off, Michael,” he spat, and turned on his heel. Calum blinked, taken aback by the sudden hostility in the room, but he wasn’t one for confrontation.

“Hey, I’m manly, too!” he told Michael, but their voices became muffled as Luke stomped up the stairs and practically threw himself into the bathroom, locking the door behind him.

_If I just get through this day…_

Except, no, it wouldn’t just be today. He would have to see Michael practically every day for the rest of their careers. Luke swallowed the hard lump that had suddenly settled in his throat.

_This is going to ruin us._


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been forever and this chapter really kind of sucks, I'm sorry! I had written something ages ago but my laptop crashed and I lost all my files, so I gave up on this for a while... And now I'm trying to piece together from memory and it's not going so well sooo... again, I really apologize. I'm hoping to have more done soon.
> 
> To summarize, this is very brief and terrible and not much happens, but I figured I might as well post it cuz yolo.

_“Luke?”_

Luke came to with a sharp inhale, blinking his eyes open. He had showered a while ago, but he’d been sitting in the bathtub for god-knows how long now, and his goosebumps were about to start sprouting goosebumps.

_You’re being pathetic, honestly._

Yeah, well, he figured he had a right to be at this point.

“ _Luke Hemmings, you decent in there? Do I need to call a locksmith to get you out?”_ Ashton called with a short giggle muffled through the wooden bathroom door.

“I-I’m f-fine,” Luke called back, the cold in his bones making his teeth clack together painfully. Ashton was silent for a moment on the other side until his hand thumped once against the door.

“ _Luke, please open the door and let me talk to you.”_

His voice was pleading and Luke could never say no to Ashton, damn him. His skin had mostly dried up by then, so he pulled on a pair of boxers and unlocked the door, settling back into his place in the bathtub and drawing his knees up to his chest. Ashton opened the door slowly, peeking his head in the gap of the door before entering. The smile slid off of his face as he took in the sight of Luke curled up in the bathtub, looking far tinier than his giant self should.

“All right, Lukey,” Ashton said gently and sat down on the toilet cover across from him. “What’s wrong?”

Luke shook his head, not trusting his voice to stay steady if he tried talking. He couldn’t tell Ashton about Michael anyway, it would just cause a rift in the band and there was no chance in hell that he would have a hand in that.

_But you’re already causing your own downfall, every time you don’t say no to him._

He knew that, he did, but the rest of the boys didn’t need to know. They didn’t need to be punished for his mistakes and Michael’s—whatever Michael was trying to accomplish. He would never forgive himself if this stupid _thing_ between him and Michael would ruin everything they’d worked so hard for. Did Michael not see that? Michael was one of the most passionate musicians he’d ever known, threw himself so completely into every song that Luke had to stop himself from just staring at him in the middle of their shows. He couldn’t understand why Michael would risk it all for meaningless, drunken sex with his bandmate when he could have literally _anyone_ else now. Sure, they considered themselves the same dorks with next to no suavity, but the girls (and some boys) lined up for them anyway.

And yet night after night, Michael came to him. Was it love?

Was it hate?

Luke swallowed the hard lump in his throat and looked up at Ashton, who was staring at him with wide, worried eyes. The truth was, Luke was afraid to ask Michael and be told that it meant nothing, that it was just convenience, or worse—that it was _punishment_ of the worst kind _._ That Michael was back to being cold and cruel to him like before they became friends. Because Michael had always been the one to know when he needed a cuddle because he was missing home, or when he needed to be gently teased because he felt left out (even though sometimes he went overboard), or when he needed a smile or a hug or just a touch on the arm, and Luke basked in his affection. Calum was his best friend and partner-in-crime and Ashton was his rock when he felt lost in their strange new world, but Michael knew him better than he knew himself sometimes, or so he had thought.

And he wished he could tell Ashton that he felt like he was being torn in half between his dignity and his ache for Michael’s love and attention, and that sometimes he wished he could just walk away from everything, wipe his hands of it all and go back to being nobody.

But Ashton couldn’t hear that, so Luke used the only other secret he had left.

“I’m gay, Ash.”

Ashton just smiled, let out a breath and moved to sit on the edge of the bathtub, drawing Luke into his arms. Considering Ashton wasn’t generally the physical-affection type, Luke took the chance to cling to his biceps.

“I’m so glad you told me. I mean, I knew, but I’m really glad you finally told me,” Ashton said, pulling back to look Luke in the eyes.

“Y-you knew?”

“Well, yeah… I love you, Lucas, but you need to learn how to erase your internet history, man.”

“Wha—Oh _god_ ,” Luke groaned, hiding his face in Ashton’s neck. “Just—let’s not talk about it, okay?”

Ashton giggled and patted Luke on the shoulder, pulling away from him, “Trust me, once you’ve seen Michael’s history nothing will surprise you anymore.”

Luke’s heart jumped at the mention of Michael’s name, but he managed a smile and a nod, “I should… I should get dressed.”

Ashton smiled and ruffled his hair, “I’m proud of you, Lukey. And you know we’re always one-hundred percent behind you, all right?” He got up and, with one last grin, left Luke to the churning guilt in his stomach.

Ashton could never know just how wrong he was.


End file.
